Descent
by Cadillac Cowboy
Summary: The events surrounding the final day of Malachor V and the final meeting between Revan and the future Jedi Exile.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: This was originally an answer to a request in Trillian's forum, but it kind of took on a mind of its own. Anyhow, enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: I own none of it. Don't sue, you'll only win a pair of boots. **

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She strode purposefully amongst the rank and file of battered Republic soldiers, her hand firmly grasping the hilt of her saber as she traversed through the dust and jagged rock. Her robes, singed by errant blaster fire and tattered by the raging winds of the planet, identified her amongst the throng of combat suits and Republic armor.

She was a Jedi. _Had _been a Jedi. Until she had heeded to a plea for help. Heeded to the call of the Republic to halt the advancing Mandalorian menace. Heeded to the call of war.

She had been a Jedi Padawan once, steeped in the teachings of the Jedi Code and well on her way to Knighthood. Her ability to wield a lightsaber had been unmatched at the Academy on Dantooine. She was one of few Jedi to master the skill of the double-blade; its mere presence in her hand conveyed a sense of fear in both friend and foe alike. But she had left her teachings behind. She had left to follow Revan and Malak and perhaps a hundred more like-minded Jedi to stop the Mandalorians. She had left to save the Republic. But years of constant battle, bloodshed, and loss had long since extinguished the fire that battle had once stirred inside her. There was no glory left to be found in the waging of war, only a weary resignation to see the job through... without losing anymore than she already had.

Nearing her destination, she stopped briefly to take in the sight which awaited her. She was on the front lines of another battle on another planet, and had yet another chance to finally end this war. The battlefield itself was a particularly grisly scene. Hundreds of crumpled bodies, all bearing Republic insignia lay scattered before her. The once rocky gray terrain that covered this planet had been stained with the blood of her troops. She could see thousands of small glints dotting the battlefield amongst fallen soldiers, as the waning sun shimmered off of the metallic body armor of felled Mandalorians. Her troops had given as much as they had taken. And now, perhaps the tide would finally be turned.

"Lieutenant! Status report," she called roughly.A young man, barely into his mid-twenties, turned to her and began to read the datapad he held.

"General, we have taken heavy losses. Estimates range almost 1,700 troops. Almost a third of the army. Many were killed by our own grenadiers," the man replied, his voice mixed with both sadness and disgust.

General Reyns eyed the man for a moment, sensing the disdain the man held for her tactics radiating from his voice. She turned her gaze back toward the battlefield, silently cursing the way battles had been won in the past few months. "Victory at all costs," Revan had demanded. But, unlike her commander, she knew all too well the costs. This was _her_ brigade, and she was not inclined to sacrifice _her_ soldiers for the sake of superior numbers. But orders were orders, and the chain of command was not to be broken.

"Lieutenant, what of the Mandalorians?"

"Estimates are still forthcoming, General. We're expecting more than1,400 enemy dead, sir. But recon reports that they still possess a fairly large detachment of stealth warriors, and may be gearing up for a counterattack within the day."

"Very well, Lieutenant. Detach a squadron to retrieve our fallen soldiers. They deserve to be honored. Not strewn about on the ground of this Outer Rim wasteland."

The lieutenant eyed her with a look she could not place. Was he shocked or appalled? It did not matter. She was not the heartless monster that many of her subordinates viewed her as. Far from it, in fact.

"And lieutenant, have a demolitions team accompany the detachment. For every dead soldier we recover, I want a mine placed in their remembrance. Then we're going to fall back to the Malachor Ridge. I want snipers at four points along the peaks. Grenadiers in position on above the infantry. If the Mandalorians want to mount a counter-offensive with a stealth force, then will make them pay for it."

"Aye, sir," the lieutenant barked and drew himself up for salute.

General Reyns simply nodded, turned and began her trek along the lines, reaching out with the Force to try and gauge the morale of her ranks. They were downtrodden and tired, but their hatred of the Mandalorians was enough to bind them together and keep the fire of battle within their bellies stoked.

_They deserve better than this,_ she thought to herself. _They are soldiers of the Republic, soldiers with homeworlds and planets that they are dying to protect. Not cannon fodder or expendable assets..._

Her thoughts were cut short as she sensed someone nearing her. Turning, she was face to face with a winded ensign.

"Si... sir," the ensign sputtered, trying in vain to catch his breath. "I ha... have a communication from Commander Revan."

The young man handed her a datapad.

_What in the Force is this about,_ she wondered as she carefully scrolled through the text.

"Have you gone mad Ensign!" she barked as she finished reading.

"No sir! Commander Revan has requested you be given immediate escort back to your flagship. A shuttle awaits you at Home Base."

"That is unacceptable Ensign! We have just now begun to retrieve our dead and wounded. And my recon units tell me that a Mandalorian counter-attackwill arrive today!"

"I'm sorry, sir. But Commander Revan is adamant. There is a rumor that he has slew Mandalore the Ultimate! The war may finally be over! He wishes to speak to you about this turn of events at once."

_Slew Mandalore? Could this bloody affair finally be coming to an end?_ _But... no, I will not leave these men behind. Their sacrifice is to be remembered._

"Very well, Ensign. But I will be returning to Home Base as soon as this _conference_ is complete. I want a shuttle prepped and ready to go. Are we clear, Ensign?"

"Crystal, sir."

Tucking the datapad into the folds of her robe, she turned informed her second in command that the field was his until her return.

"And if the Mandalorians should attack before my return, Captain, alert me at once," she barked and then began to make her trek to the awaiting shuttle.

* * *

The shuttle trip itself was made in silence. The idea that the war was coming to a close elated her. The Republic would finally find itself at peace and hopefully begin the road to recovery.A road that had been long overdue. But a feeling of dread carefully tugged at the back of her mind. There was something the Force wanted to reveal to her, but it was just agonizingly out of her reach. She brushed the thought aside as the shuttle docked with her flagship, the _Risen Star,_ and she exited. 

The ship itself was abuzz with life. Tacticians carefully analyzed battle plans while technicians scurried about to and fro repairing or upgrading systems of all sorts aboard the ship. It had been almost a week since she had last stepped foot on this ship, and today, the mood of her subordinates seemed to be particularly upbeat.

_No doubt the rumors of Mandalore's death,_ she thought.

She made her way into her quarters and approached the holo-viewer. The distinct silhouette of Revan, clad in his infamous black robe, cape, and mask, awaited her.

"Hello, Jul," came the eerie mechanical voice from behind the mask.

"Commander," Jul Reyns responded with a nod. "Rumors run rampant that you have slew Mandalore the Ultimate. Congratulations. Perhaps this war is finally at its end?"

"Yes, I have felled Mandalore. But there remains one final attack before we can draw this war to its end."

"Another attack, Commander? I would have assumed the Mandalorian clans to be in disarray after learning that their leader has been bested."

"A reasonable assumption Jul, though it is unfounded. With Mandalore the Ultimate usurped, another like-minded tyrant will simply claim the title of Mandalore and the fighting shall be renewed. That is why we must strike now, while the Mandalorians battle amongst themselves for leadership."

"Commander, my forces have taken heavy losses. We have only within the past hour begun to retrieve soldiers. A final assault may decimate the remnants of my armies," Jul replied, as her previously discarded feeling of dread began to creep closer to the front of her mind.

"I was not referring to a ground assault, Jul. Even with a complete victory over the Mandalorians at Malachor V, remnants of their race remain stationed elsewhere. No, we need a victory that will crush the Mandalorian morale throughout the galaxy. One that will strike fear into the hearts of the bravest Mandalorian soldier when he hears the name of Revan."

"You mean the name of the Republic, sir."

"One in the same, Jul."

"What do you propose," the General asked uneasily.

"I believe it is time that we triggered the _device_,"was the reply.

"The device, Commander?"

"Yes Jul, the device that you informed me of a few weeks ago when we first laid siege to Malachor. The device you're Iridonian tech has since finished constructing."

"The Mass Shadow Generator? I did not know that you were aware of its completion, Commander..."

A dark laugh emanated from the bluish-black silhouette.

"You did not inform me of its completion that much is true. But I long ago implemented _measures_ to keep me fully abreast of activity among all my officers."

"You have resorted to spying on me then, _Revan_?" Jul replied, pouring her indignation into the name.

"Such harsh words, _General._ But you may call it what you like. I have since had the weapon delivered to Malachor's surface. It is activated, and should be engaged immediately."

An overwhelming sense of shock and rage roared with Jul's very soul.

"_Immediately!_ Revan, we still have troops on the surface! _My _troops. Not to mention the number of capital ships which are still in close orbit of Malachor. We don't know how devastating this _weapon_ is... it could wipe out the entire fleet!"

"I've taken the liberty in performing my own calculations, General. Our losses will be minimal. The major components of the fleet are safely out of range."

"And what of my troops? It will take days to evacuate them from the surface, and the Mandalorians will no doubt come to their own conclusions about a hasty retreat when the war is so close to being over!"

"This is war, General! Sacrifices are to be made! And they are not _your_ troops. They are _mine_. And if I deem the sacrifice to be sufficient, then it is. My orders stand, General. Engage the mass shadow generator, immediately."

"Revan... what you ask is... is... _murder!_"

"No Jul, I do not ask anything. I'm the Commander of the Republic fleet. I _order_ you to engage the weapon or be stripped of your standing and thrown into prison."

General Jul Reyns stood as if her feet were imbedded in permacrete. She could not move, she could not think, she could not breathe. She had been pushed, in the past, to accept Revan's tactics for warfare. Tactics which became more and more violent and unforgiving as the months had passed. But this was by far the most heartless order she had ever been given. It was no longer war. It was murder.

But she knew she had little choice.Even if she were to relent,she would be cast down and imprisoned, and another would be given the task. Knowing his desire to impress Revan, the task would be sure to fall to Malak. No, she would follow orders, and hope that her shoulders were broad enough to bear to the weight such an act would bring. After this final act, perhaps the war would finally come to an end.

"You are my Commander, and I am your General. I will do you as you order Revan," came a hoarse reply.

"Very good, Jul. I have also arranged transport for you to my flagship at 1100 hours tomorrow. There are certain _matters_ we need to discuss in private."

"Yes, sir," she responded with a bow. When she looked up, the holo-viewer was blank.

Stepping away from the device, she fought the overwhelming nausea that ripped through her body. Slightly shaking she pulled her communicator to her now stammering lips.

"B...Bao-Dur... report to the Bridge..."


	2. Chapter 2

The Iridonian walked along the panels and consoles of the _Risen Star _with a sense of trepidation. Techs were not often summoned by personal communicators by a commanding officer. Franticly he began to retrace his repair duties of the last week. Had he fouled up the ion cannons he had reconfigured for Mandalorian shields? Had he forgotten to recalibrate the sub-light engines of the General's personal shuttle to ensure quicker travel to the surface? On and on he ticked off his tasks mentally, and each time he came up blank.

Looking up, he noticed the small figure standing before the viewing glass atop the bridge. She was covered in tattered robes, and from a distance, she looked like a human child. She was of slight build and physiquie. One would hardly recognize her as the warrior she was. Her shoulder length blonde hair hung loosely around the hood of her robe, and as he made his was closer to her, he could see that her small hand was shaking terribly.

"General," the Zabrak stated quietly. "You summoned me?"

Jul turned around and locked eyes with the young tech. He was a quiet man; that much she had gathered when he had first come to her with the idea for the mass shadow generator. But while he seemed almost bashful, he had a reputation that had become known throughout the ship. He was a master technician, capable of almost anything. He was also considered, as one brash Corellian lieutenant had put it, "one tough sonofabitch", a testament to the arm he had loss months earlier in a plasma explosion while repairing a droid during the Mandalorian siege of Dxun.

Now, a stream of blue energy comprised his arm, while a droid-like replica of a shoulder and hand, completed the visage.

_He is indeed very strong. And I've sensed something else about him... perhaps, he could be..._

"General?" the tech asked again, this time with a hint of concern in his voice. She had yet to quit staring at him for the past few moments.

"Bao-Dur," she replied, pulling herself back to reality. "We have orders to engage your creation."

The statement was a plain one, with no sense of foreboding nor excitement to be found within the words. Bao-Dur's eyes went wide.

"Sir? What of the troops still stationed..."

"I have my orders... as do you... how long until it can be done?"

"I did not know the device had been activated..."

"It is of no matter," replied the General. And for a flicker of a second, he thought he could sense a tide of despair float along the words, but he paid no heed.

"Very well, General. I have the triggering mechanism right here. I simply need the order to be given."

Again, Jul stared deeply into the brown pools of the Zabrak's eyes. And this time, Bao-Dur _could_ sense the despair. Gone was the lively young woman who had stepped onto the _Risen Star_ as a General so long ago. Instead, what stood before him was a battle hardened shell of a woman, whose eyes shown into a soul that was hollow... dying...

"Engage the mass shadow generator," came a whispered order, almost too soft for Bao-Dur himself to hear.

"General, are you..."

"Do it, Bao-Dur."

It was a stern order, but Bao-Dur noted that her eyes were seemingly pleading with him to disobey. Nevertheless, he pulled the small triggering device from his tech vest, set a series of numbers and turned his gaze toward Malachor V.

The result was little more than a blur to any and all that saw it. The planet itself began to quake visibly, even from space, as a large green fog seemed to envelop the entire sphere. Suddenly, explosions began to rip across the planet's surface, causing the vaccuum of space itself to be lighted by a kaleidoscope of green, orange, red, and white. Bao-Dur looked on in shocked awe. Large chunks of the planet began to break away from the sphere as the whole planet seem to howl in pain. And it was by his hands.

_What have I done? _The thought echoed through his mind.

Then the distress signals began. Republic ships were being sucked into the new gravitational pull of the planet. Voices were filled with panic as they made their descent toward their deaths, rendering gut-wrenching pleas for help. Bao-Dur tried to block out the frenzy. He looked at the General, who stood staring with her back to the view window. Her shaking was more violent now, like a spasm ripping through her body. She fell to one knee, arms gripped tightly around her midsection. She fell to her other knee, then to the floor, and the writhing became more violent, incoherent whispers turning to loud babbling until finally she let loose a haunted scream that seemed to echo throughout the ages. And then she was still.

* * *

She had refused to turn and watch the destruction of Malachor, the destruction of her troops. It was an act she would have to live with, but it was easier to cope if she did not witness the destruction. But as the planet began to rupture, she could feel them. _All _of them. At first like a frenzy of whispers, but growing louder with each second. She closed her eyes and tried to focus, tried to block out the voices. But they grew louder and louder. Then faces began to scream by her closed eyes. Faces of such pain and agony and... _hatred_... that she could feel their torment. Thousands of lives crying out from the pain that she had been responsible for. It was too much for her to handle. She could sense them through the Force, sense their outrage and desperation. It was killing her, as she was killing them. She had to make it stop. With a guttural scream, she lashed out against the Force in her mind, somehow driving both it and torture away... then, her world went black.

* * *

_The scene itself was a frenzy of destruction. As the Republic soldiers waited along the Malachor Ridge, they watched as hundreds of explosions began ripping across the battlefield. On cue, Mandalorian soldiers began to appear out of nowhere, only to drop to the ground in death. Metallic remnants of their battle armor exploded, scattering shrapnel among their ranks as more and more warriors fell. _

_Many soldiers let out cries of victory, while others opened scattered fire from the ridge, aiming not for precision, but for simple firepower. Republic grenadiers rained down a fury of grenades on any Mandalorian that might navigate the minefield. The Mandalorians were being decimated. Victory was at hand._

_Suddenly, the Ridge itself began to quake and an explosion ripped the Republic forces, from the rear in a domino effect to the front lines and across the battlefield. Untouched mines exploded and the ground itself began to break apart and release a bellow of gas and fire. The explosions began to rip the Republic lines apart, as soldiers found themselves suddenly being crushed to ground and an invisible force. Anguished cries and bloodcurdling screams filled the air as bodies began to explode, blood and bone filling the air as the very essence of life was snuffed from the planet._

_Jul Reyns could only watch in horror as soldiers she had led were killed in the most savage way she had ever witnessed. Tears streamed down her pale face as the skies opened with thunder and watched as Republic and Mandalorian ships came crashing to the surface, exploding in great balls of fire and durasteel before they too were crushed under the pressure of the gravity well. She had never seen destruction like this. Never felt the anguish. Looking down, she saw the blood spattered face of a lieutenant. The same young man she had spoken with earlier. She reached down and took his face in her hands, sobbing._

_"I'm so sorry."_

_His eyes snapped opened and he lifted a mangled hand to her face. He tried to speak, but all that came was a gargled response as blood spilled from his mouth, covering his chest and the Republic insignia above his heart. He looked around briefly and then his eyes met hers once more. He pulled her closer, almost placing his lips upon her ear, and began to whisper._

_"Traitor..."_

Jul leapt awake from her bunk, her face moist with freshly spilled tears and her body covered in a thin sheet of sweat. She fell to the floor, gasping for air, trying to find some hold on her bearings. She felt the cold durasteel floor beneath her and it gave her a center to concentrate on. Slowly, she began to breathe easier as the room itself began to stop spinning. She realized that she was far from the battlefield on Malachor. She was in her private chambers aboard the _Risen Star_.

_A dream,_ she thought. _But no... far too real to be a dream. I was there... through the Force..._

She tried to reach out to the Force itself, and to her shock, there was nothing there. Only a small, bitter remnant of pain.

_What have I done? _She wondered frantically. _Have I killed the Force with my actions?_

Her thoughts were interrupted by a small metallic beep. Her communicator. Reaching into her robes, she pulled it from the tangled mess.

"General, this is Captain Badren. Your shuttle has arrived and is awaiting your departure."

_Revan,_ she thought as a feeling of malice slowly began to build inside her.

"I'm on way, Captain."

Slowly, she pulled herself upright. She looked down at the tattered rags that had once been her Padawan robes. No doubt, she should change into something more respectable.

_No, I will not stoop to impress Revan further. These rags will remind me of who I am... and what I have done... and after I meet with Revan, I shall wear them back to Coruscant... and I will stand judgment for the crimes I have committed in the name of the Republic... in the name of Revan..._

She checked to find her saber hilt still clipped to her belt. Wiping the tears from her face, she opened the door and made her way to the docking bay.

* * *


	3. Chapter 3

Her trip to Revan's Commanding Quarters had been a silent and altogether heartbreaking task. The mood aboard the ship was jovial, as soldiers celebrated amongst themselves flashing wide smiles and slapping one another on the back. The war was finally over, and she could not fault them for their happiness. She wondered if they were even aware of the tragedy that had taken place to ensure this victory. How many had friends or loved ones whose lives, like Malachor itself, had been wiped from the galaxy, as if they had never existed. She wondered if they knew who had given the order to rain down such destruction. But the thoughts of the past day's events still turned her stomach, and she quickly strode through the large doors and into the Quarters.

The room was empty, save for a large rectangular durasteel table and a few chairs. On the table set two glasses, a large bottle of amber liquid, and a black metallic mask. Making her way around the table, the head chair turned to reveal a lone occupant.

Revan.

He smiled slightly at the arrival, and then proceeded to pour the liquid into the two glasses.

"Ah Jul, come and sit. Have a drink with me to toast to the victory at Malachor."

He motioned for her to sit next to him, and placed the glass in front of a corresponding chair. Jul simply stood.

"Strong drink will not cleanse my soul of the horrors I have caused. Nor will it yours," she replied.

"Are you so sure," Revan asked swirling the liquid in the tumbler before gulping it down with a satisfied smile. "It is Corellian whiskey. Very strong, and, if I am not mistaken, one of your personal favorites."

"I have changed since my days as a scheming youth, Revan. As have you."

"This is very true," Revan mused, pouring another drink. "I am no longer a liability to the Jedi Order. I am now a saviour to the Republic."

He smiled at his own attempt at humor and washed down yet another drink.

"You are a murderer Revan! A tyrant bent on securing your own glory," Jul screamed, as if a fire somewhere inside her had been snuffed out, only to roar back into life.

Revan's smile quickly vanished, and his eyes locked into a vengeful glare with Jul's own.

"History will remember me differently, General Reyns. I have secured the Republic from an invasion. One of many invasions to come, I might add."

"You killed hundreds of thousands of your own troops Revan!"

"I did what was necessary! I know far more of the situation than you could ever dream, _General_. And those troops were on the verge of dissent. And I cannot have my ranks split when the next war approaches."

"Dissenters? Have you gone mad Revan! They were Republic troops loyal to me! Loyal to you! And you had me sacrifice them to ensure that the Mandalorians would fear you!"

Jul was seething now. Her emotions, which she had tried in vain to carefully check through her many years of training, now came rushing forward like an on setting flood. Revan seemed much more in control of his.

"They were loyal to you, this much is true, Jul. And I can see now how fiercely loyal you were to them. But they were _weak_. Had they known of my defeating Mandalore, they would have wanted to return home. And when the fighting stopped, the would leave. And they would have abandoned _us._"

"_Us_, Revan? What _us_?There is only the Republic. And it is their right to return home. The war was coming to an end. It was what they fought for! What I thought we were _all_ fighting for!"

"The war is not over Jul. Another war lies in wait for us. At the end of the galaxy. It lies dormant, for now. But it is beginning to stir, and the Republic will be decimated. These Mandalorians were only the first wave of a greater enemy. Those soldiers were not the stock _we _need to win this coming war."

"Revan... you sound like a Mandalorian..."

"Do I," Revan mused. "They were a very formidable adversary, you know. One the Republic would not have defeated without the likes of you, and I, and Malak. And perhaps, I have learned a few tactics from them. It took very delicate planning, the destruction of Malachor. I had only a handful of days to position the pieces..."

"What are you talking about," Jul asked, with more than a hint of insinuation in her voice.

"Come now, Jul. Surely you cannot be so blind. You said so yourself, the Mandalorian clans would fall into disarray once they learned that their leader had been bested..."

Jul stepped closer to the seat Revan occupied. This was not happening. This _thing_ that sat before her was not the same man she had followed to war those years ago. This was not Revan. This was something else. Something sinister and malicious and... _evil_...

"_When _did you kill Mandalore the Ultimate, Revan," she whispered as she continued to draw closer, her hand slowly inching toward the hilt of her saber.

Revan simply smiled.

"The same day that you left to set up ground forces on the surface of Malachor..."

In a blinding flash of light, Jul ignited her double emerald blade, and leveled it for a blow. It was met centimeters from Revan's face by a red blade. His own. Behind the crimson glow, she could see that he wore a menacing smile.

She hadn't noticed how much his features had changed. His once blue eyes were now a sickly yellow and green, horrid looking in the glow of his lightsaber. His skin was pale and thin, as if no blood flowed beneath his flesh at all. He was less man, and more monster now.

With a flick of his hand, he sent her flying back into the wall from whence she had came.

"I told you, Jul. They were _weak_. What I did not expect was such weakness from _you_."

Pulling herself to her feet, she tightened her grip on her saber, her body fueled by rage and hatred for this monster who had decided to sentence so many innocent soldiers to their deaths. A monster who had tabbed her to be their executioner. And in doing so, caused her to be cut from the Force.

"How far you have fallen, Revan," she seethed. "You have become that which we fought to begin with. And worse... you've embraced it! You are nothing more than a Sith!"

"Now you are opening your eyes, Jul. But these are not ordinary Sith. They are ancient and powerful. Neither the Republic nor the Jedi can defeat them. But I can. I can best them. If I have to reshape the Republic, then so be it."

"You cannot reshape the Republic, Revan."

"I _am_ the Republic," he stated simply, grinning as he prepared for another attack.

She charged Revan once more, whirling her saber in a frantic flurry attack. But Revan kept pace. Parrying back, he put Jul on the defensive, blocking lighting quick strikes while trying to keep footing. She had never been overpowered in a duel before. It frightened her. Worse, the Force was not there for her to call upon to steady her defense. Without it she would fall.And then she realized that this would be her end.

Her defense became less and less precise, hoping that Revan would strike, and perhaps save her the misery the road ahead would bring. After all that had happened, he owed her that much at least. She felt a burning sensation strike her shoulder, and in a scream of pain fell to the floor. Revan deactivated his red saber, and with a twitch of his hand, used the Force to bring Jul back to her feet and pin her against the wall.

"You are _worthless_ to me now Jul. I see the Force flutter around you, but it does not permeate you. You have cut yourself off from true power. Join me, and I will reunite you with that which you have lost."

"Join you? I'd rather you dealt with me as you did the others you have deemed _weak," _she spat. The grip around her throat began to tighten.

"I could Jul," Revan whispered. "I could crush you with only a turn of the wrist. But you are not worth the effort any longer. You are the shell of a once proud warrior. And now, you plan to crawl back to Coruscant and beg the High Council for forgiveness... no... _punishment..._ you seek for others to pass judgment on your weakness..."

"H-how... did you k-kn..."

Revan let loose a laugh.

"You may have deafened yourself to the Force, Jul. But I have not. I can see it all around you. You wish to be punished for your own peace of mind."

"I... I... seek at...tonement," she rasped, struggling for air.

"You will find none in those hallowed halls Jul. Only arrogance and ignorance. And they will not kill you. The Jedi do not kill their prisoners, remember? No... they will do far worse. They will spare you, so that you may live the nightmares you've conjured up for an eternity. They will keep the Force from you, and you will forever be _weak_... and _alone. _Join me, and you will never feel such pain again."

"G-go... to... h-hell Revan."

Revan simply smiled, and with a flick of his wrist, hurtled Jul through the air into the far wall, knocking her unconscious. He simply strolled over to the heap of robes and battered humanity, and rolled the body over his boot. Reaching down, he deactivated her still humming saber and clipped it onto her belt. Walking back to the table, he picked up his mask and reattached it to his helmet.

"May the Force be with you," he snickered as the doors suddenly opened.

"Commander Revan! We heard sounds of a strugg..."

The man was cut off as an invisible force began to strangle him. Clawing for air he dropped to his knees, eyes locked on Revan's mask, trying to plead for help. In an instant, his eyes rolled back, and his arms went limp. Revan released his hold on the man, and the soldier fell face first to the floor, dead. Revan looked to the second guard.

"Have the General placed aboard a small ship and taken to Coruscant. She has a confession to make concerning her treachery to the High Jedi Council."

The soldier merely nodded and called in the order over his communicator.

"And Captain, when the ship is far enough away, have the rest of the fleet assemble around the _Risen Sun_. They are part of a conspiracy to join the Mandalorian plight. When we are positioned, open fire and destroy them. Once it is finished, we set course for the Unknown Regions. The Mandalorians are defeated... not dead. We will take the fight to their homeworlds and ensure the safety of the Republic."

The man nodded, almost proudly, as if it were honor to serve such a man. He turned to leave, before Revan spoke one last time.

"And Captain, inform the fleet that I am now in complete tactical control of all matters. I will be addressed as _Lord_ Revan from this day forward."

* * *

**Author's Note:**

**Thanks to any and all who reviewed. I greatly appreciate it. This is my first real stab at fan fiction, so any pointers and/or advice would be great.**


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